


reaper's hand

by nui (cogito)



Series: teeth in the grass [2]
Category: Kagerou Project
Genre: Abuse, M/M, fucking against a wooden wall, kuroha is his own warning tag, same warnings for ac verse in general tbh, splinters ew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cogito/pseuds/nui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ficlets for acverse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> kuroha/shintaro: shintaro learns not to ask questions.

__

_Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party  
and seduced you  
and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing._

\- richard siken, _litany in which certain things are crossed out._

::

 

"You know," Shintaro asks, fiddling uncomfortably with his hood as Kuroha lead them into an alley and out of sight from the foreign templars, "Why are there no girls in the brotherhood?"

The question takes Kuroha off guard for a minute second, freezing in place, before glancing around the corner and scouting his perimeters. Shintaro can’t see it, but he’s sure that his elder is smirking beneath that hood of his.

Kuroha suddenly throws his head back, grabbing Shintaro’s wrist with one hand and pushing him against the wall with another. He’s taller, and Shintaro lets out a small squeak at being caught off guard.

"Now now, Shintaro," Kuroha hisses against his face. Shintaro can taste the sake on his breath and feel Kuroha’s forearm pinning his head to the wall, "Isn’t that something you’d like to find out?"

Kuroha releases his wrist, but the tingling feeling sliding up his thigh can’t be anything good. Shintaro gulps, and Kuroha’s dark grin only spreads further in response.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kuroha/shintaro: in which kuroha takes a rest.

There’s a pause in his step when Shintaro sees Kuroha sprawled out against the thatch rooftop. His eyes are closed, hiding the inhumane colour behind them. The younger assassin freezes, staring at Kuroha’s frozen figure. The rise and fall of his chest seems to hint that… Kuroha is asleep. Shintaro moves down himself, sitting down beside him and staring at the hand Kuroha’s left defenseless. It’s the hand without the bracer, and Kuroha is asleep, so it should be safe, right?

As soon as he reaches to touch it, something catches him off guard. In the seconds that elapse, Shintaro is quickly pinned into the thatch, his face prickled by bundles of dried straw. Kuroha twists his arm, and Shintaro yells.

"Thought you could sneak up on me?" Kuroha’s voice tickles the back of his neck.

"I wasn’t-mppph-" He opens his mouth to protest, only to have it shoved further into the thatch roofing. Then Kuroha unrestrains him, and as Shintaro flops around to face the black haired assassin, he notices that Kuroha’s normally yellow eyes are red. Confusedly, he blinks, and the yellow hues return.

"Seen something?"

"No, nothing at all," Shintaro responds, shoving against Kuroha’s chest so he can navigate himself out of the way. Kuroha laughs, twining his fingers with Shintaro’s as a response. Shintaro groans, of course it would end up like this. When Kuroha hovers over him, however, Shintaro blinks.  
Kuroha’s eyes are red again, and they remain red.

"I’m tired," Kuroha suddenly mumbles, squeezing Shintaro’s hand, "Let me sleep on you.

"Just for a little bit-!"

But Kuroha has collapsed already, curling up and nestling into Shintaro’s side. His constant shuffling and wiggling is annoying, never staying in the same spot for more than a couple of minutes. It’s when Shintaro pulls Kuroha into his side that Kuroha finally seems to have found a comfortable spot to sleep.

Shintaro sighs.

 

 

 

Then Kuroha’s bracer makes a _clicking_ noise.


	3. hollow out my hungry eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kuroha/shintaro: in which kuroha teaches shintaro a lesson.
> 
> written in my 3am style. compare and contrast to 3pm style if you want i guess.

_And the part where I push you_  
 _flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks,_  
 _shut up_  
 _I’m getting to it._  
richard siken –  _a litany in which things are crossed out._

::

Shintaro tells himself he doesn’t really understand when Kuroha tosses him the rusty dagger and drags a cowering Templar to his feet, half a limb still dangling from a messy cut that was never meant to kill him (Shintaro’s lying, by the way, there isn’t a single bone in his body that doesn’t know what assassins have to do and, he reminds himself, he’s just freeloading off the brotherhood. Kuroha too, he adds silently, even though he doesn’t want to, because Kuroha is Kuroha for lack of better, more violent, scary words.) Shintaro shakes like a rusty old carriage, jittering as he juggles the dagger used to slit throats between his hands, lunging forward to catch it again when it threatens to slip between his fingers. At this point he doesn’t know who’s shaking worse, him or the Templar that’s bleeding to death, foaming at the mouth. 

The templar’s voice rattles with his chattering teeth. Shock, fear, and pain diminishing him to writhing on the floor as foreign words gush from lips like the pool of blood forming at his knees planted into the ground.  ”He’s begging,” Kuroha says lethargically, as if the exchange bores him, “For you to kill him.” Shintaro’s left to wonder where Kuroha might have learned the foreign devils’ language. Then Kuroha’s hand lets go off the fabric he used to drag the Templar in to the alley, and kicks him, digging a dirty heel into the templar’s uniform, staining it with the mud recently mixed from the rain and dirt and disgusting manure.  Then, with his hands crossed over his chest, Kuroha says, “I’m done with him.”

Shintaro looks up. He speaks fluently in Kuroha’s tones, and Kuroha’s just used the one where it means that there’s no more playing around anymore.  If Shintaro doesn’t want to die he’ll have to kill instead. (It’s not like Kuroha ever plays around, since murder is a constant when Kuroha is close, but Shintaro can tell between the tone where Kuroha just wants to shove him into a wall for fun and the one where its straight up dangerous to even breathe without permission.) Shintaro’s eyes scan the distance between his hands and the Templar, and then at Kuroha.  He must be impatient and disappointed for a lack of excitement in this part of the city. Biting his lip, and mumbling something to the god that watched over this land, Shintaro’s hand tighten messily around the handle, his fingers clasping over each other. 

He pierces downwards without aiming and it doesn’t end up where it’s supposed to land when his hands shake too much to be stabilized. Instead of reaching deep into the Templar’s chest it’s instead landed itself into the ground between the half-mud, half-dirty mixture of the rain.  He doesn’t even want to look up, because he knows that Kuroha’s fucking  _angry_  and it’s utterly paralyzingly  _terrifying_  and he can’t even feel himself  _breathe_ as a result _._  The click of Kuroha’s hidden blade thuds through even through the thundering rain, and Shintaro, having the sound memorized, only shrinks more and more into himself.

The templar’s head rolls by him moments later, still foaming from the pain and delirium of bleeding out painfully with no relief. Shintaro’s shaking restarts as he drops the dagger to the floor, clutching himself and thinking holy shit when did it get  _so cold?_  In his frozen state Kuroha’s reaches out to him, snaking under the fabric of Shintaro’s hood and gripping a fistful of black hair instead. His still bloody hand nestles neatly against Shintaro’s skull. Realizing the invasive presence, Shintaro tries to scramble to his feet just as Kuroha yanks hard against his hair. (Or tries, because when Kuroha’s furious there’s nothing he can do but clamp down on his lips and bear it all the way through to the best of his abilities.)

 “Shintaro.”

The ugly purr in Kuroha’s voice only makes his shaking worse, and then Kuroha’s hand is leaving his skull which means that he’s going to slam into the wall behind him in this moments later as Kuroha literally throws him against the wall. The blood from Kuroha’s hand streams down his face, mixed with the coldness of rain and the cold sweat he had been shaking from earlier. Cautiously, Shintaro looks up, trying to peer into the sudden darkness under Kuroha’s hood and wishing that he could pull his own over his face to hide the shame. The other assassin is silent again, but Shintaro closes his eyes, half expecting the pain and half being unable to contemplate the amount of pain Kuroha administers on a semi-daily basis.

Kuroha aims a kicks to his crotch, and it connects without the slightest bit of resistance. Pain scorches Shintaro’s groin as he slumps over, only to bump straight into Kuroha’s knee.  Kuroha pulls back his hood, and the look in his eyes make him seem even more inhumane.  They’re  _glowing_ with the inhumaneincandescence of unknown fire from who but the  _youkai_  know where _._  It takes seconds for Kuroha to cut through the leather and cotton in Shintaro’s clothes and as Kuroha lets his hands replace his knee as restraint Shintaro immediately knows (and because it’s Kuroha, he’ll brand Shintaro with marks that burns for week and the splinters will leave scars when they’re taken out). 

And then he is howling, His back burning against the wood of the building, scrapes smearing his back in the red of blood. The wood digs into skin and he’s screaming in pain against Kuroha’s shoulder as individual chips push and prod against half healed bruises and barely-healed cuts, threatening to pierce the thin layer of skin between the wound and blood underneath. Shintaro begs too, between alternations of  _faster, harder, deeper, please_ , for Kuroha to _stop, it hurts, it hurts, please stop_. And Kuroha, of course, hears his little words like high pitched whimpering whines, only to crush them like mosquitos inside his head as he bites and nicks Shintaro’s tender shoulders swollen in pain. Once in a while, he pauses, and Shintaro inhales only to realize Kuroha’s simply shifting his own position inside as thrusts deeper and deeper and further and further into the side of the wooden building and Shintaro is moaning and groaning and his head burns when the pain and the pleasure are enough to drive him over the edge when he howls Kuroha’s name as they finish together. 

Then Shintaro rolls off Kuroha as Kuroha covers him with his cloak and gingerly they return, having finished the reconnaissance for the day. Shintaro shuffles against Kuroha’s back, observing the sky from the corner of eyes.  The day is dark with thunderclouds and rain, but Kuroha’s serpentine grin bathes the area in ominous light and Shintaro thinks that it’s a small miracle that all wood was at least, in some parts, half wet.


End file.
